Jackson had given up bothering to say anything sensible. It was a JRPG. No one had more than three lines of dialogue and it didn’t matter what he said anyway.

Demonic perv-magnet pouted at him. “Wouldn’t you rather I sucked it instead?”

Eh?

No time to ponder what he’d thought she said. He felt that strange swirly dislocation that indicated he was about to enter battle. His vision blurred and then cleared. He was standing in the same location, but everything around him appeared crisper, as if he was seeing it all at a higher resolution.

That included the succubus.

Jackson smiled and shook his head. So predictable. Didn’t matter what age the game was aimed at, the dirty old developers couldn’t resist sneaking in an obvious fetish fuel character for them and their audience of adolescent boys to perv over. Jackson used to be one of those adolescent boys before he’d grown up and realized how sad it was.

Moréhâgg was worthy of a good perv. She looked like filth incarnate. She possessed the mountainous silicone-enhanced peaks of a porn actress welded to an impossibly thin wasp waist—the kind of figure that could only exist in hentai. Her costume wasn’t exactly there to preserve modesty. Her shiny purple top revealed more cleavage than it hid, and the glossy material was stretched almost to bursting trying to contain her abundant breasts. The eye-shaped clasp that held the thing together at her chest looked like it might pop at any moment. Most of her flat belly, including the little dimple of her navel, was exposed. Her long lithe legs were covered in kinky fishnet stockings that ran down to a pair of sexy stiletto heels. The stockings were attached to her waist with suspenders.

Fetish fuel. Pure filthy fetish fuel.

She was also the area boss. Jackson could tell—she had her own battle theme.

That was the other stupid thing. Every time he went into battle, music would start playing even though there wasn’t a single musician in sight. Usually it was something wibbly-warbly that was meant to be rousing, but instead sounded like someone farting through a tin in a bath full of semen. Moréhâgg’s music was different—slow and slinky. Dirty.

Wait!

Jackson noticed she wasn’t wearing any underwear. He looked between her legs and saw a neat little bar of trimmed pubic hair and the shadowy cleft of her pussy.

This was…unexpected.

He remembered her words before the battle had begun. Had she actually said what he thought he’d heard her say?

Moréhâgg stood next to the throne and gave her long red nails a bored glance.

“Are you going to do something, or do I have to wait here all day?”

That jerked Jackson to attention. Yes, it was his turn.

He charged forwards and slashed Moréhâgg across her ample chest. He felt the impact and Moréhâgg doubled up. Thirty-one flashed above her head in floating red numbers. Then she stood back up straight and Jackson saw no visible mark his attack had hit her.

None of his attacks ever did. Jackson had slaughtered hundreds of stupid gonks in the ruins above and in the countryside leading up to them and his blade was still as pristine and shiny as if it had been freshly forged. Kids’ game. No blood effects allowed here.

“Is that all?” Moréhâgg taunted.

Jackson knew he’d damaged her from the numbers he’d seen flash above her head.

She looked down at his sword.

“No wonder. You’re still using that? Why didn’t you get the better one at the last town?”

“Waste of money,” Jackson muttered at his toes.

Never buy weapons. There was always the same or better hiding in the next chest. That’s how JRPGs worked.

The demon girl threw a fireball at him and he smoothly dodged it. He didn’t know how much health she had left. Probably not much. The fetish fuel enemies were usually pretty flimsy, but they often made up for it with lots of annoying status-changing attacks. Best if he finished this quickly. Time to use…

“Oh, are you going to use one of your special attacks?” Moréhâgg asked. Her eyes shone with excitement.

Who was this? She was the first character Jackson had encountered that seemed aware they were in a world constrained by weird videogame rules.

“Come on, let’s see it,” Moréhâgg said eagerly.

Jackson took up a stance with his sword. He hated this part.

“Aww, are you embarrassed,” Moréhâgg said. “You know it doesn’t work if you don’t call it first.”

Jackson knew. Unfortunately.

“Super Slash,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

Stupid Japanese anime conventions. She was right though, it didn’t work unless he called it first. Jackson hated that. It always made him feel like the dorkiest Dork McDorkien.

The succubus put a hand to her mouth and giggled.

Flames flickered along the edge of Jackson’s sword.

Laugh this off, bitch, he thought.

He charged and hit her with an upward stroke that flung her backwards. Seventy-one flickered above her head in red numbers.

Yeah! That’s more like it.

“Like that, huh,” Jackson said. “After I beat you I’m going to use this ‘bad’ sword on you like a dildo. If I’m feeling nice I might even insert it hilt first.”

“Ooh, kinky,” the succubus said, standing back up with a smile on her full lips.

She threw another fireball. This time Jackson blocked it with his shield, taking no damage.

“But it’s your other ‘sword’ I’m interested in.” The succubus glanced down at Jackson’s waist. “Even if it looks a little small.”

What the fuck!

“Fuck you!” Jackson shouted.

He connected with another sideways slash and thirty-one flashed above Moréhâgg’s head.

“Fuck using my sword. I’m going to shove a hammer up there instead. No, one of my shields!”

Moréhâgg spun back around to face him. For all her exaggerated curves, her moves were as fluid as a dancer’s. She placed a long finger against her silky smooth cheek.

“You seem a very angry young adventurer. It’s time to use one of my special attacks. I think you’ll like it.” Her red eyes twinkled as she smiled at him. “How about it? Would you like to see my Puff-Puff attack?”

Come back next Saturday to see what Moréhâgg's special attack is. It's rather naughty...